


Interlude

by invisibledaemon



Series: 12 Days of Starmora [2]
Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: 12 Days of Starmora, F/M, infinity war spec
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-06
Updated: 2017-12-06
Packaged: 2019-02-11 11:42:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12934536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/invisibledaemon/pseuds/invisibledaemon
Summary: A moment of peace while the world burns around them





	Interlude

**Author's Note:**

> 12 days of starmora day two - warmth

They’re living on borrowed time. **  
**

It’s not the first time in his life that he’s felt that way, but Peter doesn’t think he’s ever felt it more acutely than he does right now.

Twice in a row, they’ve tried to stop Thanos from acquiring an Infinity Stone. Twice in a row, they’ve failed. Now they lay, weary and injured and downtrodden, in the shoddy shelter of a few tents in what remains of their last battle site – which isn’t much. Almost all the buildings have been destroyed, and the few left standing are too unstable to risk sleeping in.

“You know,” Peter whispers, staring up at the canvas material above them, “this isn’t how I envisioned coming back to Earth for the first time.”

Gamora lets out a soft sound, not quite a laugh. She hasn’t truly laughed or smiled in days. “No?”

“No,” he says simply, and doesn’t elaborate. The reasons are obvious enough to go unspoken.

He and Gamora are sharing a sleeping bag in a small tent, trying to pretend they’re not going to be risking their lives again tomorrow in what will be the final battle of this war if they fail again. They’re surrounded by their team, as well as their new allies – possibly new friends – in the tents around them, probably having as much trouble sleeping as they are. Even the sound of Drax’s snores, normally audible even through the thick walls of their ship, are absent.

It’s a cold night and these are cheap Terran tents that don’t offer much resistance to it, but Peter is plenty warm; Gamora is better than a heating system, and she’s currently draped on top of him in the tight sleeping bag.

His body blanket, as he’s called her more than once. And she’s smiled and shaken her head, but he knows this is one of her favorite cuddle positions, too.

“I went camping once,” he says, because he feels the need to talk in spite of the fact that they’ve got almost certain death hanging over their heads – or perhaps because of it. “With my grandpa. Well, sort of. We had a tent set up the backyard, but I got scared of sleeping outside. So we went back in and set the tent up in the living room. My mom brought us milk and cookies and we watched Star Wars.”

She tilts her head where it’s resting on his chest and smiles up at him,  _actually_ smiles, that warm, soft smile she always gets when he tells her an Earth story like this. “That sounds nice.”

“It was.”

She shivers then, not for the first time. He knows it’s more because she’s scared than because she’s cold, but he tightens his arms around her anyway and starts stroking her sides up and down. “Cold?”

“No,” she says. “But that’s nice.”

He does it more, tries to pull her just a little bit closer even though that’s hardly possible, wanting to do anything he possibly can to take care of her right now. These past few days have all but shattered his illusion that the two of them, their team, are enough to take on any threat in the universe; enough to keep each other safe. So he holds onto this one thing he can do to comfort her, even if it’s small.

She might be thinking along the same lines, because she shifts to burrow her face in his neck, wrapping her arms around him as best she can with his back on the ground. “Are you warm enough?”

“Yes,” he says. She’s the warmest thing he’s ever known, in more ways than one. “But that’s nice.” He gives her a small smile and she returns it, though her eyes are weary and exhaustion is written into every inch of her face.

“Try to get some sleep,” she says, as if  _she_  isn’t the one who really needs it. Of all of them, this ordeal has hit her the hardest.

“You too,” he insists. “You haven’t slept in days.”

She makes a noncommittal noise. He means to press the point, to tell her she can’t possibly go on like this – even though there’s a distinct possibility that none of them can go on, not for much longer – but then he yawns before he can get out more than a tired, “Babe–.” And she laughs, another real, small sound, and kisses him. And he knows the truth: neither one of them are sleeping tonight. 

Tomorrow will come, and they’ll deal with it then. For now, he’s holding the world in his arms and she’s holding him back, and they’re going to steal every second of happiness they can. 

**Author's Note:**

> on tumblr [here](https://gamoraspeter.tumblr.com/post/168262243763/interlude)


End file.
